Life Debt
by Maego
Summary: The night of the final battle, Hermione saves Snape's life. Irritation, potions, flashes of insight, fighting, swearing, and maybe some affection follow.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: None of this is mine. The characters, world, and backbone of everything belong to JK Rowling. I just would like to play with them for a bit.

CHAPTER ONE

When she was barely eleven, he had been sent to tell her she was a witch. Professor McGonagall was supposed to go; her social skills lent more to dealing with parents, or anything alive (save lab rats, perhaps), really, than his did. But she had developed a hayfever the day before and despite the exceptional quality of the pepper ups he had made her, she was not feeling up for the journey to the muggle world. So, Severus Snape was sent.

When he knocked on the dark blue door, a woman with a startling amount of curly brown hair had answered, blinking at him, hello caught in her throat. He had to admit his appearance might indeed be disconcerting, on top of his already staggering height and greasy appearance, he had not deemed it necessary to dress in muggle attire. Billowing black robes were not a common sight in Surrey. "I'm here about the letter your daughter has received," was all he said before stepping into the front hall.

Snape first saw her peaking around the corner of some hallway, hair poofing out around her small face, blinking out him with giant brown eyes.

"Who are you?" Mrs. Granger demanded as a balding man came around the corner the little girl had been half-hiding behind. Snape heaved a sigh.

"My name is Severus Snape, I am the Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your daughter is a witch and has been invited to attend this school in the fall to develop her magical abilities." There was a sneer at the end of this, but they didn't seem to notice.

"There's no such thing as magic," piped up the small girl, even though she didn't sound like she actually believed herself. Snape's sneer deepened. He removed his wand and pointed it at their umbrella stand, turning it into a vase of lilies before turning toward the table and transfiguring it into a chocolate cake.

"Oh," Mr. Granger spoke first. The girl's mouth dropped open and her eyes grew as large as dinner plates.

"Ms. Granger needs to go and get her school supplies and wand. I will escort you to Diagon Alley where I trust you can figure the rest out. You can exchange your money at Gringotts. More information about Hogwarts will be in her letter." With that Severus Snape turned on his heel and exited their house. Shoes were quickly thrown on and off the family went, running to catch up. Snape stopped briefly to look down on the girl, walking next to him instead of her parents. She really had monstrous hair.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said. He said nothing, her teeth were monstrous too.

"I knew there was always something different about me. We had to dissect a frog for science last year and I didn't want to, all I wanted was the frogs to come alive and jump all over the classroom and teacher and escape. Then they did." She said this all in one breath and a corner of Snape's mouth twitched up for a millisecond; then she starting asking questions. And didn't stop. And Snape wasn't amused anymore.

***

The first time he saw her face was what came to mind as he saw it for the last time. He pushed out his memories of Lily and Dumbledore and Voldemort and anyone else of consequence and given them to Potter for whatever good it may do (likely none). She had conjured a flask almost as soon as he gave over his memories, and perhaps he had been impressed. Then he had laid down his head to die and she looked at him with those big brown eyes. This would be the last time he'd see this brilliant, know-it-all, Gryffindor princess who had annoyed him since the day he met her.

He didn't know what to think of in those fleeting fractions of seconds he had left, so he thought of when he'd first seen her. First known that she was probably going to change the wizarding world; even when she was an eleven year old who knew absolutely _nothing_ about magic, some little part of him knew. He ignored it magnificently, however, until he was about to die.

He knew she had kept Potter alive till this point, had been the reason any of this was able to get so far. Then he felt something unfamiliar, hope. He believed they would win, just because she was on their side.

Then, as he used the last of his strength to swallow the bezoar, Severus Snape thought no more.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This does not belong to me. The characters, world, and backbone belong to JK Rowling. Some of this chapter contains direct quotes from Chapter 32 of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_. Sorry for the sluggish updates.

CHAPTER TWO

Hermione Granger sat in the Hospital Wing thinking. The war had been done for some hours now, she had gone to the feast, mourned over the dead. Heard the whole story from Harry, seen the portraits applaud, and the Elder Wand repair the unrepairable (at her hands, she still berated herself). It was late at night now and she had not spoken to anyone for a while; Ron had gone with his family and Harry was sleeping in the cot next to her. For one of the few times in her life, words and tears were not enough. She ought to be filled with joy, and part of her was. They had won. Harry had not died. Ron had not died. She had not died. But so many had.

This world that she had been made a part of the day Severus Snape himself came knocking on her door to show her magic for the first time, was saved. She had played her part, done her best to help her friend as he filled out his destiny. She did not know where to go from here, though. She had half expected to die at Harry's side. Or maybe a house elf's. Now she was free to live her life, choose a career and live without fighting evil incarnate every year. Despite that relief, she felt the scars of the war; she no longer desired the life she had planned in the hopes she would survive. The gloves that had fit before she started living in a tent for a year would no longer slide onto her changed hands. For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger was without a plan.

She was supposed to give a report to the ministry as well as give over memories of consequence, to be deposited in the pensive provided. It floated beside her bed now. She had slowly and painstakingly been sorting through her mind, removing the memories and swirling them around with her wand. She sighed, removing the one of Snape's death.

She should have known he was innocent. Should have known to trust Dumbledore's judgment. Of course, part of her riled at Dumbledore's blatant manipulation of the man; for one mistake (enormous as it was) he was to be denied peace and freedom till his gruesome demise. But that was for later reflection. There were so many clues to his innocence, really. Harry's hatred had blinded him and his version of things. Perhaps if she'd figured it out, Snape would be alive. Perhaps many others would be too. She sighed, leaning over the pensive. Something was nagging her about the death, something about how his gaze had fallen on her and she felt unnerved. She decided it must be something, because when she got that tickling feeling in the back of her brain there always was. So, she thought hard and placed her wand at her temple, pulling the silvery-blue memory into the pensive.

With a breath, she plunged in.

_She stood in the shrieking shack, watching Voldemort and Snape have their last conversation, then Naigini was rolled onto his shoulders and blood was everywhere and Voldemort was gone. There he was, bleeding, gurgling and shoving his memories at Harry. Then he looked at her (or, the_ other _her), stared at her as he was supposed to die. This had been so unexpected and strange, every nerve in her body had tingled. Why did he look at her? Perhaps she was just in his line of vision. He was_ dying_ and she hadn't helped, too consumed with the war, her fear for Harry and Ron. She walked over to him, watching him sadly, tears in her eyes. This had been a bad idea. She could see nothing but notice the strange expression on his face; it was more closed in than she had ever seen but he didn't look dead enough._

_She wiped at her tears in frustration, it was getting hard to see. She knelt next to him, wishing she could do something. Then as the trio exited, his hand moved to put something in his mouth and his corpse _swallowed. _Her tears stopped immediately and she was suddenly jerked out of the memory._

What had Professor Snape eaten? Could it have been a bezoar? Could he have been that prepared? _Well, obviously_, she reprimanded herself. He had been a spy for years, knew he was under constant threat. A bezoar or two would be a very practical thing to keep on his person incase he was poisoned or bitten. Its not like Nagini was an unusual means of execution for Voldemort. He would likely have bled to death, though … She stopped mid thought and threw herself onto the floor, grabbing her beaded bag, searching through it in a frenzy. She could save Snape. She could save him!

Finally, her hands re-emerged and she held up a tiny hourglass on a long gold chain. The time-turner. He had stopped the poisoning, now she could stop the blood. He would have stayed alive long enough for her to come. She ran barefoot over to the stores of the hospital wing, _alohomora_ing the cabinet open. She gathered all the blood-replenishing potion and draught of living death she could hold, as well as materials for a suture, and anything else that could possibly ever be helpful. Then she bounded over to the bed where Harry was snoring. With rolled eyes (despite her urgency), she deposited her armful on the foot of his cot, she rummaged through his belongings until she found the invisibility cloak. She threw it over herself and tore out of the Hospital Wing, out the ruined school, past the curse marks and the blood and to the Whomping Willow.

With shaking hands she clicked it back three and a quarter turns and felt the world spin.

***

Hermione was already invisible when she saw herself, Ron, and Harry crawling into the tunnel at the base of the Whomping Willow. She squeezed in after them, taking care the cloak did not snag on a root. It was a long crawl and she knew what would be coming next. They stopped and she craned her neck to see the silver light ahead around Harry.

"The Cloak! Put the Cloak on!" she heard herself tell Harry. Then they silently made their way behind the crate and she saw Nagini in her silvery sphere.

Her stomach lurched when she heard him speak, begging to seek Harry out himself. She berated herself briefly, he was still alive after all. And they might have had a very different finish to the war if Snape _had_ found Harry. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as she heard what was coming, the calm sibilant lilt of Voldemort's voice as he prepared to kill Professor Snape, albeit indirectly. Voldemort was alive again and she felt slightly nauseous.

She waited as the scene occurred in front of her for the third time and watched from her crannied viewpoint as the starry sphere enclosed Snape from his shoulders up and he was bitten by the snake instructed to _kill_. His scream was piercing and she saw herself shrink back. She heard the dull _thunk_ as Snape hit the floor, blood gushing from him. Then, Voldemort and Nagini left to continue the war that she had lived through the ending of already.

"Harry!" she heard herself say again, and off the three of them went, her following a few steps behind. She saw herself conjure the flask, the blood kept pouring out of him with his memories.

"Look . . . at . . . me . . . ." were Snape's last words as he dropped his head and stared at Hermione. She remembered being so unnerved by his dead stare falling on her, but had been unable to remove her eyes. She had only looked away when she heard Voldemort's shrill voice echoing through the room, through everywhere. She saw him raise his hand slowly, sure no one was looking, and swallow the stone. Then he stilled completely.

_Get out!_ She thought desperately at herself and her friends; then she heard herself wildly announcing the need for a new plan and retreating. She had just _left him_. Ron followed suit. Only Harry, who hated him more than any one, had looked back. Then they were all gone.

Hermione tore off the invisibility cloak and quickly scanned Snape for vitals. He was alive. Barely. They had to go someplace safe. Someplace where she could treat him outside of where the war was still in full force. She uncorked the draught of living death and poured it between his lips. She wrapped her arms around him and thought.

***

She opened them again and was in the middle of her parents' living room, abandoned since she had moved them away, clutching onto a profusely bleeding man, a plethora of medical vials, and an invisibility cloak. She levitated him to the bedroom and began immediately pouring the blood replenishing potions down his throat. He had turned a sickly grey color.

_Please,_ she thought, _please work_. When she had given him what she hoped was a proper dosage (_he had lost so much blood! Did he need more?_) and began to suture the two holes where Naigini had sunk her fangs into his sallow flesh. She worked all night, applying pressure to the wound and feeding him blood-replenishing potions whenever he looked grey. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she woke with a start when she felt a hand twitching in hers. She looked up, her eyes watery (had she been crying in her sleep?) to see him staring at her crossly.

"Why," he croaked, "are you holding my hand?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This does not belong to me. The characters, world, and backbone belong to JK Rowling. I am so sorry these are so slow, I'm going to try to get chapter four up tonight too. Thanks for reading and all the kind reviews :]

CHAPTER THREE

When she was fifteen, he had been called to Grimmauld Place before an Order meeting. To his great irritation, Dumbledore was running late, leaving him to wait with the others. Both Black and Lupin were there and he had no interest in swapping hilarious stories about Potter or Hogwarts or whatever they might have been in there laughing about. _Perhaps it was even about me_, he thought sourly. This is what he gets for taking up sides with a bunch of Gryffindors. Arthur Weasley he could tolerate, for the most part. Minerva, when she was there, could be good company if he was feeling particularly chatty (which he was _not_). Shacklebolt, too, he had a grudging respect for. At least someone in the ministry wasn't a complete dunderhead.

But all of them were in the kitchen chatting, and he had no interest in just sitting in the corner and glowering. He might do that somewhere else where he wouldn't have to be subject to the two remaining marauders. So, he made his way into the library (more like storming), and swung the door open, knocking someone with bushy brown hair over. He reached out and grabbed her around the waist instinctively, pulling her up to him. She rested her small hands on his chest and as he righted her, he caught a whiff of her hair. Hermione Granger smelled like honeysuckle.

"Professor Snape?" She asked, looking up at him a blush crossing her cheeks. He released her immediately, and straightened his robes. He could still feel two warm spots on his chest where her hands had been. And the lingering smell of honeysuckle sat in his nostrils.

"One would think, Ms. Granger, that with all the books you've doubtlessly read, you might have come across one describing _doorways_," he sneered at her.

"I'm sorry professor," she said, irritation making her voice a bit higher than natural. He could hear the steel in her clipped tones. "I was going to open the door. I didn't expect you to open it so quickly." Her tone clearly indicated she had left much unsaid. He arched an eyebrow.

"Unless you'd like to get knocked over again, I suggest you get out of my way."

She fled.

He sat in the library, having found a book, but he couldn't concentrate on it. How strong was the shampoo that stupid girl was using? It smelled like something familiar, he couldn't put his finger on it … It wasn't an unpleasant smell, actually, but the fact that it was _her_ smell bothered him immensely. Now, all he could smell was honeysuckle! Snape opened his eyes.

He was not in Grimmauld Place. He was not anywhere he knew. He was not dead, either, though he wished he were as sharp, piercing pain shot through him, starting somewhere near his throat. Someone was crying softly on his chest, and a hand was wrapped around his. He couldn't mistake that hair anywhere. Granger.

He starting trying to wriggle his hand out of her iron grip and suddenly she sat up, it looked like she'd been sleeping. And crying?

"Why," his voice sounded awful and raspy, "are you holding my hand?" She blinked at him, wonder in her shinning eyes.

"Have you, the '_brightest witch of our age'_ forgotten I am your beloved Dumbledore's murder?" It seems the girl, who spewed out words constantly, had lost her voice. All she did was stare. Snape was a little unnerved (how _Dumbledore_ of her, to sit there while he spat acerbic things and simply study him like he had sprouted a second head. But instead of being horrified like a proper person, it was just _interesting_), so he changed tactics.

"Why am I not dead? Where am I?" he finally demanded, patience running very, _very_ thin.

"You're in my parents' house," she finally popped out. "You're not dead. You ate a bezoar after you were … bitten." He arched an eyebrow at her.

"If you knew I had done that, why did you leave me for dead?" She had the decency to look guilty for a moment, then her expression hardened.

"I didn't know it at the time! I thought you were the enemy and there was a _war_ going on. We had other places to be." She sounded bossy and irritated. This was the Gryffindor Princess he knew.

"Then why are you here?"

"_Honestly_, you're supposed to be a brilliant wizard." She cut herself off at her tones, then shrugged. She was no longer his student, she had just saved his life, and she had just helped win a war. So had he, but she brushed it aside, he had been unconscious through most of it. "I went back and saved you. When I had to give the aurors my memories, I saw you put something in your mouth and realized you might have tried to save yourself. So I went and found you, took you here, gave you blood replenishing potion, and sutured the bites. Don't touch the wrapping on them! You'll make yourself bleed more!" She admonished as his hand went instinctively toward his neck.

Snape blinked at her. Hermione Granger had saved him? Why was she here and not with the masculine part of the golden trio? He ought to be dead, not sitting in a bedroom in her parents' home.

"How had I not died from blood loss? I'm sure the war had lasted much longer and for you to only go back for me after the aurors were dealing with things …"

She looked uncomfortable. So, there was something she was hiding.

"I used the time turner. From my third year. I went back with Harry's cloak and waited till you had taken the bezoar and gone unconscious. Then I took you here. The war's been over for…" she glanced at the bedside clock, "about eight hours. I've been missing for two." She looked suddenly uncertain.

"You never asked who won."

"I assumed the light had if you had made it back here to save me."

Her mouth shaped itself into a small oh.

"Fred Weasley died. So did Crabbe. Remus and Tonks, both. Colin Creevy. More. Fifty more." He didn't know why she told him that, by the looks of it neither did she. He wanted to ask about the Malfoys, but decided he could find out later.

An awkward silence followed. She did not look at him, but Hermione could feel his eyes resting on her.

"So, what are you expecting to collect for your life debt? I have very little." His tone was bitter. She looked confused, then offended.

"Are you suggesting that I only helped you to _get_ something from you?"

"Of course, Miss Granger. Even as a _Gryffindor_, you are capable of ulterior motives."

Her face contorted into an ugly expression, she was torn between hitting him and laughing. She chose laughter because she didn't want to make him start bleeding again. "How very Slytherin of you."

"And how Gryffindor of you to rush and _save_ me. I was not worth your efforts."

"You're a hero, Professor. Harry told us what you did. I know what you've given up… what you've lost."

"Do not romanticize me into what I am not! After learning _so much_ about me, it ought to have occurred to you I did not _want to survive_. I was supposed to die in this war! How dare you rob me of peace?!" His black eyes were shinning, wild and angry as he yelled at her like she was a first year. Tears were in her eyes, and he delighted at it. She was silent for what seemed like an eternity.

"Yours is a life worth saving, Professor. I'm sorry you don't feel the same." With that, Hermione stood, wiped her eyes, and started toward the door. She paused as she opened it, speaking without turning around.

"Like it or not, you are alive Professor Snape. I don't want anything from you for what I've done. Merlin knows you've saved us enough times as children to call it even. The vials of dreamless sleep and blood replenishing potion, which you need to take _every hour_, are all there if you need them. I will come back soon."

Then she was gone, and Severus Snape was alone in an unfamiliar and very muggle house. He reached for his wand, but it was not up his sleeve. Then he realized he was not wearing his frock, but his ripped undershirt. He saw it on a chair on the far side of the room, covered in dried blood. On the seat of his chair was his wand. He sighed in relief. At least that chit of a witch hadn't lost or broken it.

"_Accio wand!"_ he said, and it was an effort to do that small bit of magic. He didn't realize how much he _hurt_. His throat felt like he had been drinking bubortuber pus. He felt dizzy, then everything was darkness.

***

He heard a strangled cry, a dull thump, and felt hands tenderly wrapping around his throat, pulling away the bandages. So, Hermione Granger was back. He tried to open his eyes, but it was very, very hard.

"Professor, don't move. You've started bleeding again. I told you to take the potion…" She sounded very worried. Maybe he would get to die after all. In his half conscious state, he felt disappointed. For him to have lived unexpectedly, to be free of everyone (_except Granger_) and then die a day later was not exactly what he wanted. He tried to open his eyes again, but failed once more.

She felt his mouth being opened. "Swallow this, if you can."

Warm, metallic tasting fluid slid down his throat and it wasn't until much later that he realized he had trusted her immediately, not checking for poison in any way.

***

Hermione wiped her brow. She had managed to stop the bleeding once more, but was uncertain how to proceed from there. She had borrowed all the medical books she could find in the library but hadn't had enough time to read them yet. Naigini's venom was causing this, she remembered all the symptoms from Mr. Weasley's attack. Those two identical puncture holes on his neck would not fully close. _What had been the cure that saved Mr. Weasley?_

At least she had temporarily stopped the bleeding for now. She raised her wand and cast an _enervate_. They still had things to discuss. Snape opened his eyes.

"Good morning, Professor. I think I need to take you to the Hospital Wing. Or St. Mungo's. They've done this before, probably have the right antidote. You won't stop bleeding and I just don't know enough to fix you." Snape pressed his lips into a thin line and arched an eyebrow.

"While I am impressed that the Gryffindor know-it-all _finally _admits to not knowing it all, I am going to refuse."

"What!? You'll _die_ if you don't stop bleeding."

"Well, since you decided it was your place to save me, it is your job to save me entirely. I refuse to go to a place where people mistrust my alliances and may have an interest in me not surviving."

"So… you trust me not to kill you?"

"I trust you not to _want_ to kill me. And I trust myself to know if you're about to fuck up and stop you." Hermione's heart skipped a beat. This was high praise indeed, regardless of how barbed.

"Well," she began, picking up the biggest medical tome she had, "Your wound will not close, this happened to Mr. Weasley already. Do you make an anti-venom for Nagini at any point?"

"Voldemort," she started, expecting Snatchers to surround them immediately. Snape gave her a quailing look and continued, "was very protective of his … familiar."

"Well, I suppose we'll have to cleanse your wounds with a better salve than I had from the Hospital Wing, all I could find was Murtlap. Maybe even a potion to cleanse your blood stream – you've been shaking when you're asleep – and I think a more advanced charm to mend the skin." Snape's eyes briefly glittered and her brain suggested, _approval_. She ignored it and plowed on, glad her mind has something to fully focus on beside the wreck of her life and the deaths of her friends.

"I've checked out several resources in the library, and I was hoping that you would help me discover the proper combination of cures?" She hated herself for sounding so uncertain. He merely inclined his head and held out a long, pale hand. She handed him a book and they read silently for a long time.

***

Snape broke the silence. He had immediately decided that the proper salve would be dittany, which he had in his stores. He would guide her to them when they knew what else she would need to brew. Of course, she'd broken in before (when she was _twelve)_, but the less times she infiltrated his private stores and office, the better.

He was fairly certain he'd found the proper cleansing potion, _fore ye pureity of bloode and being_. It used a combination of ingredients he knew to be effective for cleansing and it would not try to make him a "pureblood" as so many potions he'd found so far had claimed.

He cleared his throat and looked over at Miss Granger, who was searching for a charm. She was slumped slightly, the book open in her hands. She wasn't wearing the look of concentration he had seen on her earlier, but her face had relaxed as she slept. Snape didn't have it in him to reprimand her (what was wrong with him! He must truly be near death's door), he doubted she'd had more than a few hours sleep in the past few days and though the war was won, he struggles were not over. He decided to let her, if only for a little while, and he would create a list of the ingredients they would need for his potion.

Before reaching for his wand to summon paper and a pen (he doubted very much the presence of parchment in her muggle home), his eyes lingered on her. He had not taken the time to study the girl; but he knew she didn't look how he remembered her (though he more clearly recollects her when she was eleven than when she was sixteen). He realized that she was eighteen now, but she looked much older. Her face had the beginning of hard lines, for which she would have the war to thank. Each one reflected her years of worrying over her friends, her family, herself. There were also lines from her determination, her drive to be the best and to win. He admired these lines, but hated them for being where they did not yet belong. Her small face was hard, her body much too thin. She had gone from being a rather healthy and well-fed teenage girl to a woman who was all bones and angles. He wondered if she'd been eating enough. Her hair was also changed, still a great mess, but somehow it had lost its vitality. Her curls had lost their spring, like her hair was part of her spirit and something was waning. Something was not right with Miss Granger, and it troubled him.

Angry for being so bothered, he summoned the papers and began to write.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This is not mine, the world and characters and backbone belong to JK Rowling. An update so soon, how wonderful! Thank you for reading and the kind reviews :]

CHAPTER FOUR

"Hermione, where have you been? I was looking all over for you. We're going back to the Burrow today!"

Hermione immediately considered just turning back around and walking out of Gryffindor Tower. She was running thin, and Harry Potter was not helping anything at all.

"Oh, you know... the library." It didn't sound believable at all. Harry noticed and motioned for her to sit next to him on the couch. She repressed a groan. _He cared and it was very sweet_, her mind supplied_, but she was just too tired_. She walked over and sat next to him.

"'Mione, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Harry."

"Come off it Hermione, something is wrong and I am your best friend and I _know_ when something is wrong. We lived in a tent together for Merlin's sake." She shrugged and gave a watery smile. She wanted so badly to just _unload_ on him. Tell him everything, maybe he would help her with Snape and take shifts to make sure he got all the blood replenishing potion he needed to stay alive so she wouldn't have to constantly be using the time turner to sleep and be at Hogwarts and care for her potions professor at the same time.

"I'm just …" her voice cracked, she searched for a lie, "so upset about the war. About everyone…" she trailed off. Her mind whirled and slowed at the same time. She felt _awful_ lying to Harry (but was it really lying?). "I don't think I'll ever see my parents, Harry!" She sobbed onto his shoulder and he rubbed her back gently, making soothing noises and saying nonsense words of comfort.

She eventually pulled away, sniffing and wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. He shook his head. "I want to go to the Burrow, I know you want to see Ginny and I want to see Ron so badly… I don't think I can stay there, though. They've lost so much."

Harry nodded, putting his arm around her shoulders. "I know. But they'll be family soon. Already are family. I have to stay, I understand if you don't. They'll understand. Where will you go?"

She shrugged, "my parents' house, I think. It'll make me feel close to them. Kingsley's already promised to start looking for them." Her eyes watered again. Harry nodded and folded her into a hug, she didn't know when she fell asleep there.

***

She woke with a start when big hands were pulling at her shoulders, raising her to her feet and pulling her to a firm chest. She inhaled and smelled what was distinctly _Ron_. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back. It felt like a century since she'd seen him.

"'Mione!" He raised her chin for a peck on the lips, she blamed her tiredness for not being excited about it.

"Ron," she smiled at him. She must look _terrible_. "What time is it?"

"About 3 in the afternoon. Found you asleep on the couch, Harry said you fell asleep a couple of hours ago. You ready to come home?"

Hermione staggered slightly, realizing what she had done wrong. She had meant to wake before Ron and Ginny came for them to take care of Professor Snape for a few hours and collect everything on his list. Now she was trapped, there would be no chance for her to break away for a moment and jump back a few hours. She had so much to do!

"Oh, yes." She said distractedly. "I've got a book from the library I have to return before I go, I'll be right back." She smiled at him sweetly.

"Oh sure thing, I'll come with you!" _Merlin's balls_. She hadn't anticipated his over eagerness to fill the role of boyfriend.

"Um, well, I can do it alone. Talk to Harry, really it'll take me 5 minutes. I've got to say goodbye to Professor McGonagall." Her mind raced hurriedly, "And Professor Binns! He, uh, taught me what I needed to know about Goblins."

Ron made a face and she knew she'd succeeded in deterring him. She was about to break out going to Mme Pompfrey to talk about cramps and menstrual bleeding.

In a rush, she tore out of the Common Room, ducked into an alcove to turn the small hourglass back 3 times, and ran down toward the dungeons. She reached into her pocket, retrieving Snape's list and instructions on how to get into his stores. She took a sharp left to his office.

"Milkweed!" The door swung open and she stepped inside, walking over to the door that did not connect to the classrooms.

"Ashwinder eggs!" Again, the door swung open and she dove inside, scanning the shelves hurriedly for what she needed. She opened her beaded bag and stuffed Dittany, Mandrake leaves, dried nettles, bundimun secretion, powdered Romanian Longhorn Dragon horn (her eyes bugged out that he _had some_), a sprig of peppermint, helleborne and others. She grabbed a cauldron and glass stirring rod then fled, tearing up the stairs and out of the castle. As soon as she passed the gates, she spun on her heal and stumbled into her living room out of breath.

***

"Back so soon?"

"I have everything you wanted. I can't go back for anything right away." She didn't have the energy to put up with this right now. Hermione opened up her beaded bag and began removing the ingredients he'd asked for on the floor in front of her.

Snape raised a brow, "undetectable extension charm, well done."

Hermione just about fell over, but she was too tired for a reaction. She was probably delirious and imagining things anyway. "Thank you," she mumbled, just in case.

They had yet to find the charm Hermione was looking for, but she had decided to brew the potion to cleanse Snape's blood first, in hopes that it would at least buy them a few hours between doses of Blood Replenishing Potion; they were nearly out.

She began to construct a mini potions lab on the floor of her parents' bedroom when a hand reached down and touched her shoulder.

"Miss Granger, you look _awful_. I doubt you have eaten anything proper or slept at all since the war ended and as I am unable to brew myself, I would much prefer you be well rested before you begin."

She nodded dumbly. She would probably have killed him trying to make a potion right now.

"Go make something for both of us to eat, _not just me_, and we will have a meal. With _tea_. Then you will go back to the castle and sleep. Come back tomorrow and we will begin the potion."

Hermione was certain she was still dreaming. He had practically praised her earlier and now he was almost being _kind_. She rose to head to the kitchen, then stopped.

"Sir, how will you be able to take your potion? You'll fall asleep or pass out and then you'll die! I can't." He made a tutting noise and looked at her like she was eleven again.

"Perry!" cried Snape. There was a sudden crack and a house elf appeared at the foot of the bed. Hermione did fall over then.

"What is Professor be needing, Sir? Perry was thinking Master Snape was dead, sir. He is glad you are not," said the elf, bowing so low his nose touched the ground. Hermione made a suffocated gurgling noise as she tried to _grasp_ what was going on.

"Perry, this is Miss Granger. She is not well. We will both need food and tea. Darjeeling, if you can find it. Then I will need you to stay here for the night and feed me three drops of this," he gestured toward the Blood Replenishing Potion, "every hour." Then, tersely, "please."

The house-elf bowed again and with a pop, he was gone.

Hermione struggled to her feet. She was uncertain whether she should be absolutely _furious_ or not. He had a fucking _house elf_. And didn't _use him to give him potion at one in the morning!?_ He just _made her_, no, _expected her_ to be there enough that she would administer it. Waves of anger swept over her until the logical voice in her head supplied the answer: he was testing her.

Of course he could have easily summoned the elf, sworn him to secrecy and been fed the potion. Gotten Perry to fetch the ingredients and only used her to find and create a solution. But he had made her stay because he wanted to make sure she was serious about helping him. _Make sure she wouldn't abandon him_. Somehow today, she had passed his test. He was almost being civil and she would no longer have to stay here all hours of the day to keep him alive. She could have wept.

She stared at him, his face was unreadable as he watched her. She didn't know what to say, so the question that had been bothering her since he had first woken up spilled from her lips.

"If you didn't want to live, why did you eat the bezoar?"

***

Perry was indeed his house elf, but only at the school. He was not rich enough to have his own, but professors were provided with their own house elf to care for them so long as they were at the school. Luckily, under a loophole, since everyone presumed him dead, Professor Snape's tenure had not been officially ended.

He watched quietly as Miss Granger's internal dialogue played across her face. He had risked her assistance by calling for Perry, but something _had_ to be done. She looked worse than he did. He was surprised when her face settled to calm and her shrill tones never ascended on him. She looked _grateful_. He had to carefully school his features to nothingness.

Another surprise in her question, but he had been expecting it.

He shrugged his shoulders, splaying his hands open and palm up. "I had carried it on me for so long expected to be poisoned in some way, I figured I ought to finally use it. And, perhaps, it may have caused me a little less painful death. I did intend to die, Miss Granger, but that does not mean I wanted it to be _horrible_."

She nodded and seemed to accept his explanation.

Perry winked back into the room, barring plates of food and cups of steaming tea. He could smell it was Darjeeling, _thank Merlin_. It had been years since Snape had gone a day without tea and it had been nearly four now. The tray was placed on his lap and he reached greedily for the cup, feeling the porcelain warming in his cold hands.

"Perry, you must not reveal that I am alive to any other soul. Nor where I am _or_ that Miss Granger is with me. Do you understand?"

"Oh yes, Master. This is not the first secret Master Snape is asking of Perry. He will not tell a soul!" He absurdly crossed his heart, bowed low and was gone. Snape brought his tea to his lips (milk, no sugar) and savored how it smoothed down his lacerated throat.

Miss Granger had remained quiet and he glanced over to her, and saw silent tears streaming down her face.

"Miss Granger?" She sniffed, looking startled.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm too tired. Perry reminds me so much of Dobby." She wiped irritably at her eyes. "It was my fault he died."

Snape was indeed aware that Dobby the free elf had died, but not that it was anybody's fault but Bellatrix Lestrange and her knife. He said so and watched as Miss Granger took a fortifying sip of her tea.

"She was torturing me when it happened," her voice was small and broken. It didn't sound at all bossy or confident or anything like what he recognized. He was incredibly uncomfortable. "I couldn't move I was in so much pain. He went to save me, that knife was meant for _me_." She gasped out another sob. "_I should have died_," was barely audible.

Snape ground his teeth in fury. He thought she might have gone unscathed. Perhaps been spared the absolute worst, but she had not. He was more glad than ever to know Mrs Lestrange had been killed. It wouldn't be above her to torture a young girl. It upset him more that Miss Granger believed it her own fault. Gryffindors.

He did not know what to say, no words of comfort that wouldn't just sound hollow.

"Drink your tea, Miss Granger. Eat. I will not have you wasting away any more."

She looked slightly more like herself after another sip of tea and a spoonful of soup. Color had returned to her cheeks by the end of their silent meal. She stood on slightly less shaky feet than she had come in on.

"I have to go back, I'll be missed soon. We're being taken back to the Burrow. I'll be back tomorrow to stay." She looked like there was more she'd like to explain, but held her tongue. She had certainly changed.

Snape nodded his head, taking a final sip of the tea.

"Please don't die while I'm gone." Then she was.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Oh dear god, I have not updated in so long. So sorry for the long wait! I started school and things have just been crazy and I had some trouble getting past this point in the story. I promise it won't be this long again. Hopefully I'll even get two up today.

This is not mine. The characters, world, and backbone of this story belong to JKR. Thanks for reading and the kind reviews :]

CHAPTER FIVE

Hermione couldn't remember the last time she was this full. She popped into her parents' home feeling like she might explode and very ready for a full night of sleep. She shuffled down the hall and into her parents' room. The lights were off, but she could see the outline of Snape's body on the bed. Her heart stilled for a second while she was uncertain if he was breathing. But she heard him hiss _lumos_, and then there was light and his wand was pointed straight at her throat.

She shrieked and recognition dawned in his eyes.

"Miss Granger," he hissed, lowering his wand. "I would recommend you not try to sneak up on me in the future."

She placed her hands on her hips, glaring across the room at him. "I was making sure you were alive! I live here for Circe's sake!"

He glared, slumping gracelessly against the pillows. Hermione walked over to his side, opening the small bottle of dittany by his bed.

"Has Perry put this on you recently?"

"No," Snape croaked, looking like a dead man already. The adrenaline had almost made him look himself, but already he was back to his weakened state. She tsked and pushed his lank hair aside to peel back the bandage. She knew he was holding his breath, but said nothing. The dittany had made the wounds a bit smaller, but they were still angry and seeping blood. She really didn't know how he had any energy at all (though he did mostly sleep). She dipped her finger in the bottle and gently rubbed it onto his skin. He hissed in pain, but it was his turn to say nothing.

When she was finished, she summoned new bandages and re-wrapped his throat.

"In the morning, we'll brew the potion," but she was fairly certain that Snape was already asleep. She softly shut the door and went to her own room to do the same.

***

Snape woke to the smell of tea near him. He groggily opened his eyes, staring around the room. Hermione was in the process of perching a tea tray on his bedside table. However, next to his teacup there was a vial with what he could only assume the potion in it. It was crystal blue and beautiful.

"You've already made it?" He asked, holding out his hand for it.

"Yes, you can take it as soon as you like," she handed it to him. She looked drained.

Snape arched his brow and studied it closely.

"It doesn't seem to be contaminated. What will you do if you brewed it incorrectly?"

"Well, you have told me numerous times that you wanted to die, and what better way for you to go than to by proving wrong the Gryffindor Know-It-All?" She said tersely, putting her hands on her hips.

Snape tilted his head in acceptance, the corner of his mouth tugging up to _barely_ more than a smirk. Very interesting, this new Hermione Granger.

He set down the potion, took a sip of the Darjeeling (just incase she _did_ end up killing him), then uncorked the potion and downed it in a giant gulp. Snape watched the world spin and his head swam. He knew he was about to pass out and his body started tingling like it had just woken up. Then, everything was black again.

***

Snape was unsure of how long he had been unconscious, but Hermione Granger was crying over him again. Maybe he had just imagined the past … who knew how long.

"Miss Granger, please extricate yourself from my side. You're soaking me through," he snapped. His voice sounded different.

Her eyes went wide and she showed a watery smile as his hand shot up to his throat. No bandages. There was something there, just sticky pieces of plastic over where the puncture holes should be. He looked at her, she sniffled.

"You passed out and then all this awful _stuff_ started pouring out of your neck. It was green and awful looking and it just kept pouring out of the bite. But it wasn't blood, so I just kept cleaning it off and keeping it away from you. Then it stopped and you didn't look as bad. So, I put dittany on them and they just started healing and closing up. They're barely cuts now!"

Snape had to concentrate very hard to get everything she said, as it came out in a giant _woosh_ of relief and excitement from the young woman. He said nothing, merely stood and walked to the mirror hanging in front of the fireplace in the room. He was so determined he barely took the time to marvel at _standing_ after so long. He didn't go dizzy, just was able to walk across the room. He didn't miss Hermione's squeal of joy, however.

He stood in front of the mirror, pushed his hair back and stared at what should have been a mangled mess of flesh and blood by his jugular. Two Elmo (though he didn't know exactly what the smiling red creature on it was) band-aids were covering up the scabbing indentations in his neck. He turned toward Hermione, unsure of how to thank her.

"I am … impressed, Miss Granger. And thankful," he said, quietly, bowing his head. Which was good, because her smile could have blinded him.

***

They had supper together, which wasn't as awkward an affair as both would have believed it would be. They were even able to make _very _small talk as they ate. After they had both put their silverware down and Perry had whisked everything away to be cleaned, did she say what had been on her mind since she realized he wasn't going to die.

"Professor, what are you going to do, now that you _are_ alive?" She looked slightly sheepish, but held her chin high.

"I suppose you won't be willing to just let me slip into the shadows."

"Well, Professor, the Order needs to know that you're alive. The public needs to be aware of all you have done to save them."

"I don't think either of those parties need to know _anything_ about me," he snapped, standing up from the table. Hermione follows his lead, walking towards him. She wishes now more than ever that she was a bit taller – her head barely reaches his shoulders and it isn't too intimidating to be looking up at someone when you're about to have a row.

"What if someone finds you? You need to at least tell the Order that you're alive. You _owe_ it to them!"

"I _owe_ them?" His voice is dark and silkier and more dangerous than ever. _How can Snape do a complete turnaround from tolerable dying man to ferocious potions bat in so short a time?_ Hermione thinks as she glares up angrily at him. "I don't believe I owe them _anything_, Granger."

"Oh yes you do, Severus Snape," her fury making her forget the formalities she holds so important. He did just call her _Granger_, though. "You owe those who were your friends an explanation," Snape gave her a disgusted sneer.

"They abandoned me so easily. No one fought to defend me! They were just waiting for an excuse to call me traitor!" He started to turn away, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"_JUST_ like you would have done to them! They are mourning you, Snape! They have to mourn so many loved ones already, let them be spared you!"

"MAYBE I WANT THEM TO FEEL BAD!" He screeched at her, ripping his arm out of her grip.

"Would you want Lily to feel bad? Dumbledore? Don't you want to see the Malfoys?" She said, suddenly so quiet and earnest, Snape paused. He looked like he might hit her as his whole body inflamed, but then he crumpled into the chair and put his head in his hands.

Hermione was immediately by his side, uncertain of whether she could touch him. She finally went with her instincts and gingerly placed a hand on his back.

"I know it won't be easy," she said, just to fill the sudden silence that was ringing in both their ears. "But Harry has told everyone he can find about your innocence. He admires you a lot now, you know." She weakly smiled at his withering look at her. Somehow, after seeing him nearly die and arguing (_winning?_) with him, he wasn't so ferocious anymore. "There'll be a trial," she added quietly, "I'm sorry."

Snape nodded his head, breathing deeply, "as could be expected. Dumbledore has left some evidence of my loyalties and our agreement. That should help."

They both looked bone tired and said little more for a long time. Hermione simply leaned against the arm of his chair, and Snape silently sat with steepled fingers staring at something that Hermione could not see.

***

Neither was sure how much time had passed until Hermione finally broke the silence.

"I'm going to floo Harry. We'll arrange for an Order meeting tomorrow where I'll bring you in. I'll let you know the time…" she cast her gaze around so that she was looking anywhere but at him for a moment. "Will you be staying here again tonight? Or will you be going back to Spinner's End?"

Snape shrugged, "I suppose I can't keep transfiguring your parents sheets into clothing. I will be returning… home." He did not pay any attention to whether she noticed his pause as to what to call his house.

"Well, will you wait till I know the time of the meeting? I think we should apparate there together."

He nodded and then she stood and went into another room. He could faintly hear the sound of the floo after a few moments, then muffled talking. Snape wondered briefly if she had cast a _muffliato_, but decided it was probably just the walls. She wouldn't be discussing anything that he couldn't hear.

Snape stood and began pacing around the dining room. It was connected to the living room and he stepped into the softly light space and examined the pictures on the closest table. None of them were moving, but he wasn't surprised; it would certainly be a challenge to try to explain why the people in the pictures _waved_ to company.

His eye was first drawn toward a very young looking Hermione Granger. Her hair looked like even more of a rat's nest than now and she was a bit tubbier. She was standing by her mother, holding her hand in front of a library. _Unsurprising_, his brain offered. As he continued to search through the sea of pictures, there were ones with the Golden Trio and finally – he assumed just before last year – a picture of her looking much more like the woman he knew right now. She was sitting under a tree with a book, smiling up at the camera. There was really nothing spectacular about it, but Snape was drawn to it. He reached out a hand _so slowly_ and held his breath as he touched the glass of the frame.

Snape jumped back instantly, like he'd be burned, when he heard her light footsteps coming down the hall and shoved his hands in his pockets, glaring moodily at the floorboards as if they knew why he had been so compelled.

"The meeting will be at seven. So, best we meet at six-thirty? Should I go to you, or will you meet me here?" She worried her lip and Snape sighed.

"I will meet you here at six-thirty tomorrow," he said, looking like a man resigned to his fate. "Thank you, Miss Granger."

Snape turned toward the front door, taking out his wand. Hermione took a step forward.

"Call me Hermione," she blurted out, looking as shocked as Snape did when he turned around. His expression instantly cooled into an unreadable mask and he inclined his head slightly.

"_Miss Granger_," without acid or saying it the same as he would 'dunderhead,' merely what he was going to call her. He saw her nod (a little sadly?) and turned on his heal and was gone with a pop.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Another chapter up. I promise there won't be as long a hiatus in a while. Thanks for your patience. I promise to update at least once every two weeks.

This is not mine. The characters, world, and backbone of this story belong to JKR. Thanks for reading and the kind reviews :]

CHAPTER SIX

Another minute clicked by on the clock and Hermione was drawing closer to a state of panic. She sat nervously on the edge of a chair, hands clasped tightly and legs bouncing. Her gaze focused only on the fireplace before her, or the clock just above it. As another minute ticked by, making it precisely six-thirty, green flames shot into her fireplace and out came a man everyone else in the wizarding population thought was dead.

He sneezed twice (_Severus Snape sneezes?_) and brushed off his normal black attire. She stood, smiling nervously.

"We've, uh, got a bit of time before we have to apparate. Tea?"

Snape nodded his head once and followed her into the kitchen as she beckoned him to follow her. She already had the kettle on the stove and quickly set it to boil.

"The muggle way?" Snape arched his eyebrow, watching her prepare from the distance of the opposite counter he was leaning against.

"Yes. Its how I learned to make tea and when I do it by magic, it just doesn't taste the same." She shrugged and looked at his face. She saw _something_ pass over it but didn't know what. He merely nodded again.

"I am inclined to agree with you," he offered. This small, innocuous detail about his personal life struck Hermione to her very core and she held it to her like a gem; _proof_ that Severus Snape may not hate her entirely.

The kettle whistled shrilly and she about jumped out of her skin. He sneered at her small shriek and she busied herself with finding teacups for the both of them. When both had their respective brews a thick silence descended upon them again. Hermione, still nervous about the meeting and the fact that her former professor – a former _death eater_ – was standing in her parents' kitchen drinking Darjeeling, felt the need to fill it. She opened her mouth and got so far as the first syllable of "well" before Snape held up his hand and gave her a pointed look.

"Miss Granger, I recognize your need to constantly hear your own voice, but I assure you that verbal skills will not desert you if you are silent for a _small period_ of your life. If you speak one word of chatter while I am enjoying my tea, I will turn you into an earthworm."

She huffed indignantly, but wisely said nothing until she finished her tea.

"Ready?"

Snape scowled and took her offered arm. They would have to apparate directly onto the doorstep, hopefully not crushing any Order members who may be attempting to enter 12 Grimmauld Place. He raised his wand, disillusioning himself and as soon as she couldn't see him, Hermione turned on her heel and they were gone with a pop.

***

None were toppled over in transit and Hermione and disillusioned Snape entered the headquarters quietly. There was quiet chatter coming from the kitchen and Hermione felt an invisible hand wrap around her arm and hot breath on her hair.

"I will be out of the way, but beside you."

She nodded and walked through the kitchen door, opening it wider than necessary to ensure that Snape could also make it inside. As soon as she entered the room burst into welcomes. She beamed at everyone, leaning over to give Mrs. Weasley, who was closest to the door, a hug. She was quickly enveloped in the arms of Ron, who placed a kiss on her temple.

Greetings were exchanged with the rest of the room, as well as hugs from Harry, Ginny, and Kingsley.

Small talk was made as the remaining Order members filtered in, exchanging greetings of their own. Hermione tried extremely hard to keep her eyes from casting about trying to locate the invisible potions master, and to quell her mounting anxiety about the revelation she was about to make. Harry spoke up, commanding the room as soon as the last members had arrived.

"Alright everyone, Hermione has something important to tell us all," he said simply and the room fell quiet as everyone took their places along the table, all staring at Harry and Hermione at the head of the table. She felt the brush of fabric against her leg, Snape, and swallowed hard.

"As we all know, Professor Snape's body was unable to be located after the final battle was over," she paused, letting the murmur of agreement settle.

"Well, that is because I haven't been entirely honest with any of you," she noticed the shocked looks and smiled weakly. She plowed on before questions started.

"Professor Snape was severely injured after Naigini's attack. When I was cataloguing my memories for the aurors, I realized that I saw Snape swallow a bezoar before we believed he died. So, I went back with my time turner from third year and realized he _was_ still alive. I didn't know what to do with him – it was still the middle of a war, so I took him back to my parents' house and healed him. I'm… so sorry to have lied."

She felt the movement of Snape's arm and he materialized in the kitchen.

Silence.

She swallowed hard, desperately wishing to cling to him, to throw herself in front of him incase the hexes came. She had never felt so anxious, not even for her OWLS. Harry stood up and she tensed.

He started clapping, quickly followed by Professor McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and the entire Weasley clan. The whole room followed suit, giving Snape a full standing ovation. It ended as Harry approached and offered his hand to Snape.

"Thank you, Sir, for letting us win the war."

Hermione held her breath, waiting for Snape's reaction. There was a beat before he took it, and the two people who possibly hated each other most, truced.

"Thank you for killing him, Potter."

The room burst into commotion and tears as the initial shock wore off and the members scrambled to hug, cry on, apologize, thank, or otherwise dote on the professor. It was clear he was uncomfortable, but he handled himself with more good grace than she would have thought possible.

He did however, glance up and make eye contact with Hermione, imperceptibly nodding his head in her direction, before returning his attention to the rest of the Order.

***

She was, of course, pulled aside by Harry and Ron as they (really just Harry) demanded why she hadn't told them about saving Snape.

"He might have _really died_. He was awful for so many days. I had to give him blood-replenishing potions every hour. It wasn't until I brewed a blood-purifying potion two days ago that he was better at all. He needed to be able to trust me, and that meant not dragging his two most loathed students, on top of already having to deal with the insufferable know-it-all, into the healing process. I wish I could have told you…"

Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione, folding her into a warm hug.

"'Mione, we're not mad. You did a wonderful thing, if anybody could have saved Snape, it's you," he paused for a moment, considering, "plus, now Snape owes you a life debt! That'll be bloody convenient." He waggled his eyebrows in a way reminiscent of Fred and George. She restrained a strangled sob at the thought of Fred and swatted at Ron instead, wriggling out of his embrace.

"Life debts are horrible things! He has been indentured to one person or another since he was eighteen. Now that this godforsaken war is over I don't want it to continue by having him in debt to me. He's done _enough_ to more than make up for me simply keeping him alive. Don't you dare mention it to him or anyone else, Ronald Weasley," she hissed, staring at him furiously.

Harry's arm came on her shoulder and he nodded his head at her.

"We know. Ron was just being an arse, nothing unusual."

Hermione huffed, but nodded her head. Their conversation was interrupted by other members of the Order coming over to congratulate and thank Hermione for saving Snape and Mr. Weasley's pronouncement that there will be "butterbeer and firewhiskey for all!"

Kingsley Shacklebolt then brusquely pulled Hermione away as he thrust a butterbeer in her hand and began to pitch her career options in the ministry.

***

A much ruffled and inebriated Hermione Granger finally managed to stumble into the library sometime after midnight in search of some solitude. As she made her way over to her favorite chair, she abruptly discovered that it was _also_ someone else's favorite chair, but only after sitting on them first.

"OH!" she cried, bolting up and spinning around, tottering only slightly. "I… didn't realize! This is a bit embarrassing."

"Miss Granger …" Snape trailed off, looking at her in a way she had never seen before. Or in a way she had never seen drunk before. She couldn't be certain. But in any case, he seemed to be at a loss for words. She should help.

"I sat on you! I didn't think you would be in here, you were talking to Kingsley for such a long time. Though, he did talk to me for an awfully long time too. You know he wants me to work for the ministry? I know that we've been given honorary NEWTS, but—What did he talk to you so long about? Are you going to work for the ministry too?"

She had never seen anyone look more annoyed in her whole life.

"_No_, Miss Granger. As I'm sure the _sober_ version of yourself is well aware, I am technically a wanted man. We were discussing my trial."

"I won't let them give you anything less than an Order of Merlin!" She announced, placing her hands on her hips in a way that (though drunkenly) suggested this was indeed truth. "_First class_," she added for emphasis.

"Well, I hope they see things your way Miss Granger. Given my second lease on life I would very much like to not spend it rotting in Azkaban with the Death Eaters who see me as their ultimate betrayer." He looked grave and solemn, so she put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

"I won't let them."

***

Snape had dealt with drunken students before. He had been a professor and a head of house. Of _Slytherin_ House. He had also attended enough social functions thrown by professors and ministry alike to be well versed in the blatherings that people of all ages were capable of. Everyone is a dunderhead, but especially more so when drunk.

He had not, however, encountered Miss Granger in such a state before and it had taken him by surprise.

Of course, she had started off their rather bizarre conversation by sitting on him, something that no one has ever, _ever_ done to him before. And he didn't feel remotely inclined to hex her until she cried. It was actually very funny. Not that he would tell her, _that_ would be insufferable.

He was tired and not looking forward to the following weeks of his life. Or months. Or year. However long it took for them to try him and Rita Skeeter to stop publishing absolute drivel about his life – all of which will become abruptly public very soon. He did not want to be crowned a hero. And what's worse, he absolutely did _not_ want to go to Azkaban.

And apparently Hermione Granger was going to make sure he didn't. She also had very warm hands. Interesting.

"Thank you, Miss Granger."

"Hermione."

He was uncertain of how she was able to look so menacing in a purely feminine way (there must be courses taught by McGonagall) while in such an inebriated state, but he decided to consent, just for tonight. He told himself it was not because her hair was looking particularly unruly and her cheeks were flushed in a way that very much suggested _passionate young woman_. It was not because she looked more like how he thought she should than he had seen her looking since waking up in her care. Absolutely not. It was because she'd bother him all night about it.

"Thank you, Hermione."

She looked triumphant and his lip tugged upwards in the smallest of smiles.

"So, if Kingsley wasn't giving you job offers, what _are_ you going to do after you're free? You won't have to teach anymore."

"I… don't know. It wasn't something I have given much thought to yet. Perhaps brew, do experimental potions. That's always interested me.

"And yourself? Will you be taking up Kingsley's job offer?"

She stopped smiling and frowned, working her lip between her teeth.

"I don't think so. I don't want to just … accept NEWTs that I haven't earned. But I don't really want to go back to Hogwarts. I don't … know what I want to do. I want to find my parents."

Snape was puzzled. He remembered something about the ordering of the murder of muggle parents. But at that point, it could have been anyone's. Though, in retrospect, her's would have most definitely been a target.

"Where are they?"

"Australia. I erased their memories and gave them new ones and I sent them to Australia. I don't know how to find them. Kingsley said he'd help. But they'd probably hate me. If they ever remember me."

She looked so pained, so lost he wanted to reach out to her. He remembered her hand on his shoulder and reached out and grasped hers for a fraction of a second (they were also small, as well as warm). It was an awkward gesture and he pursed his lips uncomfortably. She didn't seem to notice. Hermione bounced back into her cheery drunken mood as soon as he'd let go.

"You were handling yourself with quite good grace with everyone. I was shocked you could be that civil!" She smiled cheekily and he thought he might be enjoying their conversation.

"And now you are handling yourself with barely an ounce of decorum. I didn't know you could do so without a house-elf like reaction."

She giggled, then leaned in and looked very seriously at him. "That's not funny, you know. House elves are creatures with feelings too. They should be given respect."

Then, before he could break into outright laughter at someone seriously saying that inches from his face with barely focused eyes, Ron Weasley burst in to save him. Or perhaps her.

"'Mione! I've been looking _everywhere_ for you. Mum's in a right fit because she found Ginny and Harry snogging upstairs. We've got to go. You're spending the night in the burrow, yeah?"

"I doubt Miss Granger is in any condition to apparate," Snape gave a pointed look.

"Oh, I was thinking about just flooing home, Ron. I'm rather sleepy…"

"Mum insists you come so you can have breakfast. And so do I. And we'll floo home Professor, not to worry. She's in capable hands."

"I suppose. We're leaving now?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah, I'm sure Mum will come barking looking for us now too."

She shot Snape what he thought may be a disappointed look. "I have to go, Professor. It was very nice talking to you. I'll owl you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Miss Granger."

Then, in a flurry or red hair and tutting, she was whisked away from the library and him.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This is not mine. The characters, world, and backbone of this story belong to JKR. Thanks for reading and the kind reviews :]

CHAPTER SEVEN

Hermione woke to a far-too-loud-for-the-hour banging on the door of Ginny's room. She groaned in response and cracked an eye open. It was also much too bright. Merlin, she hated hangovers.

"Make it stop," she croaked at the other girl, only to have a pillow chucked in her general direction. Even her own voice sounded like shrieking.

"'MIONE! GIN! COME ON BREAKFAST IS READY! BLIMEY, HOW AM I AWAKE BEFORE YOU? CAN'T YOU _SMELL_ THE BACON?"

_Am I actually in a relationship with this noise? _

Hermione rolled (fell) out of her cot in the room and walked over to the door, swinging it open with more ferocity that she thought she could muster in this condition.

"Shut. Up. Ronald." She hissed, glaring up at him. Her hair was frightful, she was in her clothes from the night before and had a bit of spit on her chin.

"Gosh, 'Mione, I hope you look like this every morning when we're married," Ron said sarcastically. She squinted down at herself surveying the damage. She had the composure to at least wipe her chin.

"Hungover, Ron. Need tea. Need potion. Probably need dragon tranquilizers. Until you deliver at least two, I will be exclusively seeing the inside of the loo."

It wasn't until she had closed the door and started to climb back into bed that she realized Ron had mentioned marriage. _Circe's tits,_ her head hurt far too much for her to think about that now.

She sunk back into bed and enjoyed the five blissful minutes of dark and silence until Ron returned with her requests.

***

Having consumed her fair share of the hangover potion and hopping in the shower, Hermione was feeling much better. She entered the kitchen smiling brightly, ready to devour anything put before her. She sat and began cheerily talking with the Weasley clan as she tucked into her eggs and sausage.

Halfway through breakfast, the grumpiest looking eagle owl Hermione had ever seen burst through the kitchen window and landed on the table, holding out its leg to Hermione.

"Oy! Watch it, you bloody beast!" Ron cried as it toppled over his orange juice. It nipped over at his fingers and Hermione tsked.

"Its from Snape," announced Ginny, who was sitting closest to Hermione and had peered over her shoulder as the other girl read.

_Ms. Granger –_

_My trial begins tomorrow. I have been placed under house arrest until my conviction. You and the rest of the Order will be summoned to testify. Be aware that damage to your sparkling Gryffindor reputation may be done if you offer continued support._

– _S. S._

"What about, dear? I hope everything is all right," Molly Weasley said, beginning to fret with her napkin. Hermione stood quickly, looking resigned.

"Professor Snape's trial begins tomorrow. I have to go prepare. I would appreciate it very much if you all were in attendance and gave testimony on his behalf. Excuse me."

She took the sausage in her pocket and held out her arm for the owl, which it hopped onto gracefully. Hermione quickly climbed the stairs to Ginny's room, where she found a scrap of parchment and a quill.

"Just a minute," she tsked at the owl, which was beginning to nip at her pockets.

_Professor Snape –_

_The entire Order and I will be at your trial to provide testimony in your defense. I do not give a fizzing whisbee about my 'sparkling Gryffindor reputation,' so please do not insult me as to suggest I would not do the right thing because of such ever again. You are stuck with my support for the duration, do not try to arse you way out of it. I will be by at 4 o'clock to provide you with tea and discuss your forthcoming trial._

–_H. G._

_P.S. Please warn me if your 'guards' are dementors, so I have adequate time to collect Kingsley's balls to be served on a platter to my cat before our meeting. _

Hermione paused only a moment to consider that this note was the least formal thing she had written (or said) to the man in her entire life. She shrugged however, and quickly attached the note to the owl and retrieved the sausage from her pocket as thanks. As soon as it had gone, she turned on her heel with a crack.

***

It was about 3:30 when Hermione had finished collecting all the supporting memories she had of Professor Snape into her pensive and had nearly completely her floo calls.

She threw more powder into the fire, getting back down on her hands and knees. Sticking her head into the green flames she called "Rita Skeeter's office!" and felt her head spin.

"Hello Rita," she intoned sweetly, smiling up at the scowling woman before her.

"To what do I owe this … _pleasure_, Granger?" The reporter pursed her lips unpleasantly and shifted in her seat.

"Strictly business, I'm afraid. I have a bit of something to ask of you."

"What might that be? If it involves my resignation, I'm afraid the answer will be no."

"Oh no, nothing of the sort. I have a bit of a proposition for you, actually." Skeeter's ears perked up visibly.

"Yes? I'm listening."

"As I'm sure you are well aware, Severus Snape's trial is beginning tomorrow, and I'm sure such an important reporter as yourself will be covering it in detail."

"Absolutely. Is he a romantic war hero? A sinister turncoat? The best spy to have ever lived? The public has a right to know, and I will be providing them with answers."

"Good, well, this is where the proposition comes into play."

"Ah," Rita Skeeter didn't sound quite so excited now.

"I will give you an exclusive interview as to how Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and I lived until the final battle, my account through the battle as I fought by Harry's side, and how I brought Professor Snape back from the brink of death."

Hermione could practically see Skeeter salivating.

"Plus, I won't go running to my good friend Kingsley Shaklebolt to tell him about your unregistered animagus form. IF and _only if_ you cover the trial in an unbiased manner toward Professor Snape _and_ you do not divulge every aspect of his personal life to the public; _especially_ his relationship with Lily Evans.

"Do we have a deal, Skeeter?"

The blonde paused for a moment, sucking on her teeth.

"Yes, we have a deal."

"Make an oath to me."

"I swear on my wand, I will not be biased against Snape in my reportings of the trial, nor will I discuss his personal life and relationship with Lily Evans."

"Wonderful. So good to talk to you, Rita. I'll see you at the trial. Floo me afterward and we'll discuss my interview," Hermione beamed at the other witch once more before removing her head from the fireplace.

***

Severus Snape was not having a good day.

He had been woken rather abruptly to two aurors pounding at his door informing him of his temporary incarceration. Also, that his court date was at 8 o'clock the following morning. His house was removed from exiting floos (however, people could floo in) and an anti-apparation bracelet was attached to his leg.

"You fiddle with this and we'll be forced to take your wand, Mr. Snape."

Then he ran out of tea and the plants he had been growing with replacement leaves had been neglected for some time while he was being the second most hated man in the wizarding world. It wasn't as if he would have trusted Pettigrew with them anyway.

So, no freedom, no transportation, no tea. Definitely not a good day at all.

***

Snape stared down at the letter he had received from Miss Granger for a very long time. Something had changed about their _relationship_ without his immediate notice or consent. He was unsettled.

It wasn't as if he altogether hated the girl. She was intelligent, had gone back in time to save his life, loyal, powerful, and nearly tolerable if she held her tongue. All in all, he had to admit she had grown into a satisfactory young woman. But, sometime during that growth she had stopped fearing him (actually, that had probably stopped when she hit puberty, but he allowed himself this small self-deception) and what's worse, she stopped trying to impress him. Actually, what he had hated about her most was her insecure need to impress everyone and anyone; annoying, but easy target practice. Somewhere between when he had seen her at sixteen and when she came thundering into his life at eighteen, she had lost that insecurity and stopped giving a rat's ass what he – or anyone, it seemed – thought of her. He was most assured the letter _was_ from Hermione Granger, there was no one else in the world capable of proclaiming loyalty and berating at exactly the same time (save perhaps Minerva McGonagall; hell, that was probably who she learned it from). But when did she decide she could she use the word "arse" and discuss the minister of magic's balls on a platter to Severus Snape? Loathe as he was to admit it, he was once again impressed with the girl. _Bloody Gryffindors._

_And_, he realized with a start, she had invited herself over to his home. _Merlin's fucking balls._

***

At precisely 4 o'clock on the nose, three sharp knocks sounded on his door. Snape glowered at it, giving it his sourest of expressions and threw back the remaining fingers of his whiskey.

"Enter," he barked, moving his eyes to eye his now empty glass, willing it to fill on its own accord.

"Good afternoon, Professor!" Hermione called out, opening the door while balancing a tall stack of parchment in her spare arm. She crossed the room as if she had been there a hundred times (this further soured Snape's mood, _presumptuous chit_) and pushed his booted feet off the table he had propped them on, putting her papers in their stead. Snape turned his shinning beady eyes at her, hawk-like expression much worsened with the ferocious glower.

"Miss Granger," he drawled in his most dangerous, silkiest tones, "is it your habit to walk about other people's homes as if they are your own? Especially when barging in _uninvited_?"

Granger blinked at him three times then shrugged. "You are going on trial tomorrow morning, Professor. I needed to come over so we could begin to plan, and as you are unable to leave your home, I decided to come to you. If this was an inconvenient time for you, sir, you should have owled me to reschedule."

Severus stood up, taking a menacing step toward her. She didn't so much as blink. "Must I remind you that I am no longer your professor? Your uncouth owl this morning suggests you know as much. However, I wouldn't expect decorum from a Gryffindor Princess such as yourself."

She rolled her eyes. _Rolled her eyes!_

"And I'm no longer your student. And no longer in the house of Gryffindor, and I do believe I was never from any sort of royal bloodline. You can call me Hermione. I'm making tea, you've had a bad day." She exited the small living room and into the kitchen quickly. He heard her running the tap and quickly followed her in.

"You're damn right I've had a bad day! Get out of my house, woman! Out!"

Hermione turned around, holding a large brass teapot full of water, giving him a level look.

"Snape, shut up. I am making tea for the both of us. Go sit down. If you pour yourself more whiskey or start shouting at me again, I am going to throw this pot straight at your head. Preferably full of boiling water. Am I clear?"

Snape glowered. He could just hex her and be done with it, be rid of her forever. But then he most definitely would go to Azkaban. Killing first the world's most beloved headmaster, then the most beloved student? He'd be fucked worse than a hippogriff down a chimney. And said student was eyeing him suspiciously with a rather heavy teapot. It seemed his sense of self-preservation was still intact.

"Yes, Granger." He shuffled back into the living room and her the sounds of cubards and silver, then eventually the tell-tale whistle of the teapot. A few minutes later Hermione walked out with two levitated cups of steaming tea, already prepared to their respective tastes, and a plate full of tea biscuits in her hand.

"Drink up, we've got some long days ahead of us."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Lucky you, two chapters in one night. This is because I didn't post as soon as I'd have liked too earlier. Sorry I am so unreliable. This one's a bit more boring, I'm sorry. But I had to get it out of the way and get Snape cleared before any of the really juicy stuff could start. There are still about 10 more chapters to come. Get ready!

This is not mine. The characters, world, and backbone of this story belong to JKR. Thanks for reading and the kind reviews :]

CHAPTER EIGHT

Snape woke from fitful sleep. Dreams of Azkaban had haunted him all night. He could still feel the screaming of Lily Evans and so many others he had wronged ringing in his head. He watched Albus fall and fall and fall into eternity.

It was still only five in the morning. This would be a very long day.

He rose in the dark of his room, taking a steaming hot shower that burned his flesh and scrubbed his face until the skin was raw. He dressed in the dark too, wearing his nicest black robes (indistinguishable from the others), and applied a shining spell to his boots. He considered briefly if he should pull his hair back. No, he would need it to hide his shame behind.

In his kitchen, he absurdly wished for Hermione Granger to be there. She would make him tea (though she had graciously left him some of hers) and berate him about simple things to the point of distraction. She would possess the confidence he lacked.

They had spent the rest of their night together discussing what would be raised in the trial and what wouldn't. She clarified the rules of the wizarding legal system she was unfamiliar with (though she had already read a book on it before her arrival in preparation) and compiled an order of testimonies and evidence in his favor. And most of all she was determined not to let any of the accusations that had surfaced about him before Dumbledore had spoken for him surface.

"_Some of them were true, Granger."_

"_I don't care. It's in the past, you've paid your debt. You were saved, then you saved. Tenfold. I'd call that even."_

"_I had to do things as a spy that were still illegal."_

"_You were doing your country service."_

"_They will be gruesome to hear."_

"_It was a gruesome time. You were surrounded by gruesome people. Just because you were often shadowed, doesn't mean you weren't in the light."_

"_They want me dead for Albus. A life for a life."_

"_Then they can take that up with me. I saved that life, it has a fresh slate now."_

"_I'm not a phoenix, Hermione, and neither are you. I don't rise from the ash. Your tears don't absolve me."_

"_I beg to differ."_

"_Only Albus could save me before. You are no Dumbledore, Granger."_

"_No, I'm not. I'm better."_

"_How?"_

"_I have Harry. And so do you." _

***

Hermione fidgeted, looking over the mass of the Order. She had spent the day before painstakingly tracking down every single member to ensure they would be at the trial and that they would meet beforehand. She had been adamant they walk in together. They were among the most respected witches and wizards in Europe, almost all of them were slated to receive Order of Merlins in June. They were recognizable and together they held power. That power needed to be full force behind Snape and she had made it abundantly clear.

"All right, we're getting into our line. Harry at the front, Hagrid, you'll bring up the rear?"

"Aye, Hermione!" Came the booming voice, as the group shuffled into their line.

Harry and Ginny at the front, quickly followed by Hermione and Ron, the Hogwarts staff (save Hagrid), the Weasleys fronted by their parents, Neville and Luna as well as many of the other students from all houses, then the remainder of the Order. They walked as one, solemnly entering the courtroom and sitting on the side of the defendant. When they entered and sided, a soft chorus of whispers had rippled through the crowd. Everything was on plan.

She looked into the center of the courtroom where Snape sat, face curtained by a wall of dark hair. Kingsley sat at the head of the Wizengamot, and caught her eye. He nodded to her imperceptibly, and she felt a small wave of relief. Kingsley would not let this become a spectacle.

At precisely 8 o'clock, Kingsley picked up his gavel and banged three times.

"Severus Snape, you have been brought before the wizengamot today on counts of larceny, brewing illegal potions, espionage, high treason, and murder. How do you plead?" Came Kingsley's booming voice.

There was a long, palatable pause. The room was silent and Hermione was about to cry out. Or go over and strangle him.

"Not guilty."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and released her death grip on Ron's hand. That had really been half the battle. She was confident he would be let free, so long as he just didn't say he was guilty_. _

"Alright. The trial will begin with your testimony."

***

"How did you survive Nagini's attack? Why didn't you reveal your survival immediately?"

"That would be a question better suited for Ms. Granger," he drawled, looking up at the Minister of Magic. "I was unconscious most of the time, as I was near death. It was her discretion to neither leave me for dead nor take me to St. Mungos. I woke up in her parents' home shortly after the war ended and wavered in and out of consciousness until a sufficient potion was discovered to heal my wounds. After it was consumed, my condition was revealed to the Order of the Phoenix and the next day the world."

"Why did you kill Albus Dumbledore?"

"I was under orders to."

"By whom?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

A murmur of shock rippled through the crowd and Kingsley had to bang his gavel once more.

"Elaborate."

"I was Dumbledore's spy and bound to do whatever he asked of me. Earlier in the year I had taken an Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa Malfoy to protect Draco Malfoy, as he had been ordered to kill Albus Dumbledore himself. Part of the protection included replacing Mr. Malfoy should he be … unable to finish this deed.

"I told Professor Dumbledore what I had been forced to swear to and he agreed that I should follow through. He was already dying and he thought it best if he could die most beneficial to the side of the Light. He believed that ensuring that I would be definitely placed among Voldemort's most trusted servants was the way in which the Light would be helped the most.

"He then made me make another Unbreakable Vow to kill him so that Mr. Malfoy's soul would remain pure. Thus, when the first attack on Hogwarts began, I killed Albus Dumbledore instead of Draco Malfoy."

"Albus was already dying?" Peeped up a smaller man behind the minister.

"Yes. He had discovered a Horocrux in the form of a ring and had activated the curse on it while attempting to destroy it. I had managed to contain it in his arm, but he was going to die within the year, no matter what was done."

"Do you have evidence as to prove any of this?"

"Dumbledore had left some evidence on my behalf."

"Let it be brought forward."

A gruff looking house elf appeared and took the will and memories forward to Kingsley.

"I," Kingsley read aloud, "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, hereby give this as my final will and testament. The dealings with my personal property and the like remain in tact, for this only has to do with Severus Snape. I hope that this account, as follows, as well as the provided memories, will clear his name of all accusations surrounding my death. Dead or alive, he deserves absolution. Severus Snape, from the moment he swore allegiance to me, was unwaveringly on the side of the Light…"

Kingsley read on as Dumbledore's account of events, while more embellished, matched Severus's explanation almost to a tee.

The memories were then put on a giant viewing panel before the court and played through. Again, they matched.

"It is now 12 o'clock in the afternoon, court will break for a 30 minute recess. We will ajourn again at twelve thirty to call further witnesses." Kingsley banged his gavel again and stood with the Wizengamot as everyone filed out.

***

After a short lunch, the court fell back in session. Now, Snape was seated outside of the witness stand, still chained to a chair, and Harry Potter had taken his place.

"Harry, you and Mr. Snape do not get along, am I correct?"

"Well, I'm not so sure anymore, but he has never liked me very much, and up until recently I wasn't too fond of him either."

"Why is that?"

"Many complicated reasons, sir. I'd rather not waste your time trying to explain them all."

"Well, have your feelings about Mr. Snape changed at all?"

"Yes."

"How so?"

"Well, before I used to think he was a slimey bastard, but now I believe he is one of the bravest and most heroic men I have ever had the fortune to meet."

"When did you have this change of heart?"

"During the final battle."

"When?"

"After Professor Snape died, sir. He gave me his memories before he died – or I guess so we thought – and I viewed them. They explained everything and helped me ultimately vanquish Voldemort."

"What were these memories?"

"They were of my mum," Harry replied, very quietly.

"They involved Lily Evans?"

"Yes, sir."

"How?"

"Well, they were childhood friends. Professor Snape was the one who told her that she was a witch. He loved her since he met her, but she didn't love him back. He got involved in the dark arts because of how poorly my father, Sirius, Remus, and Pettigrew treated him. When he called my mum a mudblood they stopped being friends, but he never stopped loving her. He joined Voldemort, but when he found out that my parents were supposed to be killed, he went to Dumbledore asking for them to be saved.

"Professor Dumbledore said he would save them if Professor Snape would be his spy, and Snape agreed. His love for my mum was the reason he changed sides and the reason he remained a spy and kept everyone safe for so long.

"The memories also have exactly the same information that was given by Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore."

"Is there anything else you would like to add?"

"Professor Snape is beyond a doubt the biggest hero of this war. Larger than me, larger than Dumbledore. We could not have won without him. If he is not acquitted and given an Order of Merlin first class, I am going to Azkaban myself to give him mine."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. The Wizengamot now calls Hermione Granger to the stand."

***

"Miss Granger, you were the one who saved Mr. Snape, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir, you are."

"How did you do this?"

She cleared her throat. "After the final battle had finished, I was sorting through my memories to be given to the ministry. I was going to put the memory of Professor Snape's murder in and while I was thinking about it, something struck me as funny, so I viewed in the pensive. When I saw the memory again, I was certain I saw Professor Snape put something in his mouth and I thought it could possibly have been a bezoar, which meant he could have survived.

I used my time turner to go ba—"

"Excuse me? Your time turner?" Interuppted a woman three rows back wearing a giant emerald ring.

"Yes. In my third year at school I was given one so that I could attend all the courses I was scheduled for. I stopped having to use it, but was never asked to return it, so I kept it. I hadn't used it since then, but when I saw the memory I wanted to use it to see if I could rescue Snape. Afterall, when the battle had finished no one could find his body. I very well have been the one who had taken it already.

"So, I borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak and used the time turner to go back to the whomping willow right before Professor Snape died. I waited until everyone had gone and apparated us back to my house. The war was still going on so I couldn't just take him to St. Mungo's. And no one except for myself knew he was innocent at that time.

"I gave him blood replenishing potions and tried to mend the wound, however something in Nagini's venom would not stop the bleeding, so I had to give him blood-replenishing potions once an hour until I could find a cure. On the fourth or fifth day it was brewed and administered, and the professor healed. Now he is here."

"Miss Granger, what are your feelings about the indiscretions Mr. Snape may have had while he was acting as a spy for Albus Dumbledore?"

"Anything he might have done was because it was necessary to maintain his role as a spy. He saved my life countless times while I was at Hogwarts, as well as Harry's and several other students, _especially_ when he was the acting headmaster. Professor Snape has done enough service to the wizarding world to more than make up for any indiscretion made while in the presence of Voldemort."

"So you condone his torturing of muggles and muggle-borns?" Piped up the same witch.

Her jaw twitched.

"I would never _condone_ such a thing, but I can _forgive_ because he did it in order to save hundreds or thousands more."

"What about your parents? Orders were given to kill your parents, would you forgive him for murdering your parents for the greater good?" Questioned a man sitting next to the witch with the emerald.

"I can't answer that question. Lucky that I managed to hide them so well no one could find them. I would appreciate it if you would stray from topics of my personal life when not connected by evidence to the trial at hand."

"What about his actions previous to when he was under Dumbledore's protection?" Again the witch.

"Irrelevant. They have already been discussed and discharged in court, they cannot be brought up as evidence during this trial."

"Do you not have feelings about his actions?"

"None that are appropriate for this courtroom or trial. I refuse to go further down this line of questioning, Minster."

"Yes, Miss Granger. Do you have anything else to add?"

"Severus Snape is innocent and a hero. He deserves recognition and respect for his efforts on behalf of the wizarding world. If he is not acquitted and given an Order of Merlin first class, I am going to Azkaban myself to give him mine."

"Thank you, Miss Granger. The wizengamot now calls Draco Malfoy to the stand."

***

The trial continued. Draco's testimony was by far the most detrimental, but the young wizard remained steadfast in his belief that Snape was what kept him alive, and several of the other students. As the rest of the Order was called to the stand, the line of questiong remained mostly the same, each member standing up for the dark man and each requesting that he be acquitted and given an Order of Merlin.

Hermione's back ached and she was emotionally exhausted. This had been one of the longest days of her entire life. Finally, the last witness, Luna Lovegood, stepped down.

"All evidence has been heard and brought forward in the case of Severus Snape. All in favor of conviction and a sentence to the Dementor's Kiss?"

The woman with the emerald ring and the man beside her raised their hands, as well as six other members.

"All in favor of acquittal?"

The remaining members, including Kingsley Shaklebolt, raised their hands.

The minister banged his gavel for the last time.

"Severus Snape, you are hereby pardoned for your actions during the war. The Ministry of Magic and the wizengamot would like to officially thank you for your service throughout the war. You will be receiving an Order of Merlin, first class on June 1st with your fellows. Case dismissed."

***

The courtroom burst into noise as the wizengamot exited. Immediately Severus's chains and anti-apparation bracelet fell from his body and he was able to stand. He stretched, feeling dangerously close to a real smile.

_He was free_. An entirely free man.

Before he was given sufficient opportunity to fully soak this in, Hermione Granger exploded into his personal space (and arms).

She clung to his neck, her toes barely touching the ground as she laughed into his ear.

"You did it!" She cried, beaming up at him. "I told you they couldn't convict you. Now you'll get the Order of Merlin you deserve."

He felt his lips tug upward at her as he actually smiled. It felt so strange to his muscles. It wasn't something he had really done in long time.


End file.
